A View Through the Broken Window
by Hikaru Seiya
Summary: The Broken Window shows us the many possibilites, scattered through time and space to come to us. Warning: Angst and sparky, in large amounts.


WARNING: Lots of angst and sparky in the drabbles following.

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_i. Five shades of White_

At first, he thought it the oddest request. In fact, he didn't think it was even possible. But now that he saw her walking down the isle, towards him, towards the gate, towards the future, he knew that those five shades of white were the best colors for her wedding dress.

_ii. The cruelest month_

That month was the cruelest month. Assembling a team, gathering them together, offering a last escape, before leading them to their deaths. Elizabeth was sure they didn't expect this when they signed up—after all, a death by drowning was not high on anybody's list of things to do when you find the crown jewel city of two galaxies. She was the only one still alive, and all she could do was wish for a better future and mourn those who were lost. She thought ten thousand years would be enough time, but it was difficult to be sure.

_iii. Four twelves are forty-eight_

_Three and four are twelve, four and twelve are forty-eight._ Stupid, really, that one of America's greatest diplomats was stuck in a storage room counting stacks of toilet paper._ Well,_ she thought, amused, _at least I still know my multiplication tables, even though my math teacher would still insist I say it all wrong. "Addition!" she would croak. "You are doing addition with 'and!' Use 'times.' It won't kill you!"_ She laughed. The Wraith were coming to steal their lives and their homeplanet, and the leader of the international expedition was counting toilet paper and laughing.

_iv. Your pretty blue eyes are just stained glass_

Her words had hurt, so many years ago. _Your eyes,_ she had whispered, stroking his cheek, _they are a mockery. Such pretty blues eyes._ Her sigh covered his quiet whimper._ Your pretty blue eyes, they are just glass stained with pain and suffering. What a shame._ Then she had left to kill herself.

So many years later, Rodney knew Mother was right. His eyes were stained with the death of almost the entire expedition. He stood on the balcony over the gate room, watching as waters the color of his eyes surged up to embrace him in Death's icy chill.

_v. Wake unto me_

His hazel-and-brown eyes flitted over the controls, glancing at them all as he fruitlessly pushed them. _Wake,_ he thought fiercely, _wake unto me._ A dry chuckle escaped his lips—all that Romeo and Juliet he was reading must be getting to his head. Shaking himself like a wet dog to rid himself of unnecessary thoughts, he concentrated again. _Wake unto me. Wake unto me. WAKE UNTO ME!_ He fell in a senseless heap, his life sucked out of him by the panel that had blazed to life.

_Wake unto me,_ the Ancient writing screamed as it flared across every screen in Atlantis. _Wake unto me._

_vi. Dreams of the impossible_

Her boots splashed in puddles as she strolled along her balcony, taking deep breaths, filling her lungs with the tang of the sea and the refreshing scent of a clear day after a night of rain. Her life was filled with dreams, dreams of impossible things that dreamers ten thousand years before had made. She glanced father down her balcony and caught sight of someone waiting for her—her own dream, who made everything impossible possible. A boyish smile greeted her, her impossible boy, the flyboy who flew into her heart and refused to leave.

_vii. As long as you're mine_

"As long are you're mine," he had whispered, his voice hoarse from shouting orders and screaming in pain. "As long as you're mine, I shall live in your heart." His lifeblood pooled beneath his body as she cried crimson tears.

_viii. The smell of hospitals in winter_

Elizabeth stared at a medicine cabinet mounted on the wall, eyes unseeing as she sat by a hospital bed. Carson was finally pleased with the quality of his hospital at Atlantis, and Elizabeth had to agree—it was all there, down to the hospital smell. And now, during the winter of her heart, the coldest, most remorse winter, the hospital smell invaded each and every pore as she desperately grasped her lifeline, the hand of her deepest, truest love. Snow fell on her heart as his heartbeat slowed, giving out despite everything they did to save him.

_ix. And I love you even though uncertainty_

He was trapped within his own head, a prisoner of another mind. Phebus had trapped Elizabeth, and his captor was as intent upon destroying her as she was he. _But I love you,_ John thought, tormented by this cat-and-mouse game, _I love you now, as I will love you through every uncertainty._ He trembled as a wave of hatred crashed though him, backlash from Thalen's emotions. _I love you, Elizabeth. I love you._

_x. The laughter of women_

Laughter used to be a hard thing to come by in Atlantis, but thanks to sixteen years of inhabiting the city and a final victory over the Wraith in which they were all trapped on one planet, to feed upon each other until they all died, laughter became the order of the day. What he loved most, though, was the laughter of women. In those times of stress, they had laughed the least, taking the greatest burdens without complaint, but now, as they all played card games in the rec room, their laugher echoed out into the hall and brought a smile to his face.

_xi. The currency of hope_

They traded heavily in the currency of hope these days, mostly because there was not much else to trade with but partly because everyone in the city valued that hope more than anything else. Four months now, they had been under siege, and hope was one of the last things they had. Hope, love, and life. Somehow, they would all pull through. They knew it. And that knowledge was even more precious than hope, although they knew it not.

_xii. The opposite of faith_

"What are...were the Wraith?" The little boy asked, his hazel-and-brown eyes wide as he gazed up at a larger set of hazel-and-brown eyes, eyes that looked down with a pain and hatred never forgotten, given to him by the life-vampires.

"They were the opposite of faith," he said after a pause. "They were hatred become a spirit, evil given a voice, lies cemented together into a body, beauty perverted into all that."

_xiv. The imperious life_

Many said he was imperious, a petty king ruling over an acre of land. Some, when told that, just smiled quietly, laughing at the foolish observer in their mind. His imperiousness was a shield, bossiness a bulletproof jacket, moaning and groaning and snarking his weapons. Beneath the protections, bravery and valor and intelligence and devotion and a loyalty almost unmatched hid, given only to those who earned it.

_xv. Above the thunder_

Above the thunder of terrible machines and cruel devices working mercilessly, he heard the screams. Above the thunder of the rainstorm of his soul, he heard the quiet last breath of the love of his life, stolen from him by the Genii. He surged to his feet, dirty, bloody face tracked with tearstreaks, and ripped his chains apart. Above the thunder of dumbstruck silence, he began his revenge.

_xvi. Hard, but much truer_

His words were harder, much truer. "We can't." She saw the pain in his eyes, the yearning, then nothing. He shut down his soul, denying what he wanted in favor of what was needed. She could do nothing but agree.

_xvii. Lost, in order to become precious_

She was lost to him, and he to her, but that was for the best. After all, isn't the saying "You don't appreciate it until you don't have it?" It was best this way, and they both knew it.

_xviii. Tomorrow is something we remember_

She gazed about her in wonder, unable to resist the smile that crowned her face. _This is tomorrow spread before me,_ she thought with wild joy. _And here I am, seeing tomorrow come to life before my eyes as something I will always remember._

_xix. As near as now_

When the original Stargate program had caught wind of the existence of Atlantis, they hadn't believed it.

"In the future," the bureaucrats had proclaimed, "They might find it. But not now. The grand discovery of what will probably be much knowledge could not be so near!"

Little did they know it, it was as near as now.

_xx. To the last syllable of recorded time_

When they built first Atlantis, they had hoped it would survive until the last syllable of recorded time.

When they first arrived at Atlantis, they had hoped their victory of raising the sunken gem would last until the last syllable of recorded time.

When they found their love, they hoped it would last until the last syllable of recorded time.

When the Wraith were defeated, they knew all they treasured and loved would last until the last syllable of recorded time.

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A/N: Well, I was just bored one day and went onto the El Jay community 52 Flavours and borrowed a couple of their prompts. I'm not part of the community, nor am I posting on it, and I'm not claiming these prompts are mine. Cause they aren't. The **Standard Disclaimer** applies to all the Stargate stuff. And this was un-beta'd, so all mistakes are mine, thanks. 

On a side note, I'm starting a new story that I hope ya'll will like. I've got a prologue and two chapters done, and a third is on its way. The dear muse is, for once, cooperating with me most wonderfully and I'm turning this one out pretty fast. The new story (A Tiny Matter of Altitudes) will hopefully be out soon, now that Eff Eff dot Net is cooperating and letting me post. (yey!) Anyway, feedback is appriciated, as always.


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